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Bird- Lore 



The (lay after Christmas, a t)iting cold day, I had the camera set by q 

 oxlock. Forty minutes later I took my first feeding-station picture — a Brown 

 Creeper. There were two on the post at the time, but one was out of range of 

 the lens. A Downy wanted the food but feared the staring Cyclops that guarded 

 the treasure. He would swoop down and make me believe that he was about 

 to alight, when off he would go, only to make another similar swoop. The 

 single Creeper was the only picture I took that day. 



On December 30, two White-breasted Nuthatches tried the same maneuvers 

 as the Downy, keeping me on the jump for naught. A Brown Creeper was 'fuss- 



BROWN CREEPER 



ing' around also, but refused to get in a position worth wasting a plate on. 

 But then something happened. A hurried chattering cry — a flutter of wings — 

 something landed on top of the post and was gone again, flitting up into the 

 tree behind which I was hiding. Then I saw it to be a Tufted Titmouse. But 

 that is not all. I had pushed the button in that fraction of a second that he 

 was on the post-top. The most that I could hope for on the plate was a blur 

 of wings. On developing it I was more than delighted. Later a Hairy tried 

 diving for the food, l)ut without success for either him or me. That ended my 

 year's experiences. It began to snow a little, and I could not have stood still 

 a moment longer because of the intense cold. 



The next trip taken when the sun made bird photography possible was 

 January 6. Numbers of Chickadees were around the empty post when I 

 arrived, and picked up the crumbs that dropped from my hand as I stuffed the 



